


Champagne

by RefrainGirl



Series: Be My Ineffable Valentine [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #ineffablevalentines, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Champagne, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Watches Aziraphale Eat (Good Omens), Don’t copy to another site, Fluff without Plot, Food-Lover Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hedonist Aziraphale (Good Omens), Honeymoon, Horny Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Just Married, M/M, Married Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), No Plot/Plotless, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Paris (City), Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, the champagne sacrifices itself for the greater good, we had crepes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22654855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RefrainGirl/pseuds/RefrainGirl
Summary: Day 10 of the Ineffable Valentines collection.Crowley felt himself inch closer as Aziraphale indulged in another bite of his crepe (going on the fourth one now), closing his mouth around it with such ecstasy that Crowley nearly groaned. The tip of his tongue slipped out to lick at a dribble of chocolate sauce running down his lip, and that time Crowley did groan. Quietly, into his fist. Disguising it as a cough. If he hadn’t, he would have bridged the gap and licked those delectable lips clean himself, with his own eager tongue.Fuck, this was slowly killing him.Paris is a city built on the foundations of love itself, and Crowley is certain that he's picked their honeymoon destination correctly. At least, he hopes so. He also hopes that the coming week is going to be full of romance, and perhaps he could even swing something more for tonight and future nights as well...Much to his chagrin, the champagne is going to have to take one for the team.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Be My Ineffable Valentine [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619938
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47
Collections: Ineffable Valentines 2020





	Champagne

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun with this one! It's not exactly new to see a fic with Aziraphale and Crowley honeymooning in Paris, but I've seen so many good fics about it and I wanted to write my own version! So here's my take!
> 
> Enjoy!

“Are you certain that Paris is a good honeymoon destination?”

“Yeah. It always is, it’s Paris! Probably one of the best places for newlyweds to go. Why?”

“I was just wondering, is all. We’ve come here quite a bit in the past… I would have thought you might be more intrigued by other locales.”

The cafe they were spending the afternoon at had just a handful of people spread about the wide network of tables. It was a little known gem of a place, and the people that were there usually came to escape the bustle of their day-to-day lives. Coffee, crepes and a good newspaper to pass the time. Maybe the occasional glass of wine. They wouldn’t be paying much attention to a demon and his angelic husband, and they were also a far enough distance away that Crowley felt he could speak candidly.

He leaned back in his chair, threading his hands together behind his head as he watched his husband take another slow, meaningful bite of his second crepe.

 _His_ husband. Ah, it felt so invigorating to say that.

“Hate to break it to you, but we’ve been everywhere on Earth at least once, angel,” he said, humming thoughtfully as his eyes lifted to take in the cloudless sky above them. “Should I have taken you to space? That’s the one place neither of us’ve seen yet.”

Aziraphale shook his head and sighed, even though he couldn’t prevent a small smile from leaking through. “Perhaps on a different occasion,” he admitted, gazing lovingly down at his plate. “They don’t have crepes like this on Alpha Centauri.”

That look made Crowley frown, mainly because it was directed at food rather than him. He huffed irritably. “Could’ve packed some,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “But really, Aziraphale, Paris suits me just fine. The travel pamphlet listed a whole bunch of options, but my eyes kept getting drawn here for some reason.”

That wasn’t because he looked fondly back on the rescue at the Bastille, and it _definitely_ wasn’t because he wanted to see that pure, delighted face his angel made whenever crepes were placed in front of him.

That… had nothing to do with anything.

He cleared his throat, so that his voice wouldn’t betray him. “I just decided to go with my gut. And anyway, doesn’t this seem like an appropriate setting? Lovers from all over come here to sightsee and copulate, and half the tourist population consists of ‘just married’ or ‘anniversary’ couples. So I think we more than qualify.”

Crowley wiggled his fingers for effect, particularly the one that bore his gorgeous new wedding band, and Aziraphale swallowed his bite more quickly than he normally would have. “Is that the only reason behind your demands that we come to Paris? Really, Crowley! We could engage in lewd acts at home, if that’s all you wanted out of this trip!”

The incredulous look he was receiving made Crowley snicker. “Angel, I was joking. It’s a joke!” he explained, waving it off before things progressed to sleeping-on-the-couch status. He didn’t want Aziraphale to be so miffed that sex was thrown off the table completely. _He either doesn’t get it or I’m just not funny anymore,_ he thought with an inward sigh. “I wanted to take you here ‘cause I thought you’d enjoy it. You’re the one who came over in the middle of a Revolution to pursue your love of crepes, remember?”

Aziraphale sniffed at the jab. “It was hard to resist the craving,” he mumbled, frowning over at Crowley, who was grinning back like the smug bastard he was.

“We wouldn’t even be having crepes today if I hadn’t showed up then to bail you out.”

“Yes, you do love to hold that one over me, don’t you?”

“Just a friendly reminder to try not to let your stomach lead you into damp, dark places. I don’t anticipate trekking into every pit of despair just to save you from yourself, _again_. If you’re gonna get caught, why don’t you do it in a sunny field or something? Much easier on my constitution.”

The angel gave him an unimpressed look, deciding to ignore that last comment in favor of bringing another piece of crepe to his mouth. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some?” he asked instead, offering his fork to Crowley. The demon waved off his offer with a shake of the head, watching as Aziraphale slipped it into his mouth with no hesitation. “You really are missing out, dearest. The food here is exquisite.”

Crowley shrugged. “Eh. I always came for the wine,” he admitted, straightening up to lean his elbows on the table. The expression on his face had taken a bit of a serious turn, and he leaned his chin heavily on folded hands to stare into those questioning eyes. “Do you really like Paris?” he asked hesitantly. “Or is it just the food you like?”

“Hm? I don’t recall saying that I didn’t like Paris. It’s a lovely city.”

“You sure?”

Aziraphale nodded, smiling sweetly. “Of course, Crowley. Anywhere I go with you is an adventure. Come now, dearest, you know this.”

That seemed to reassure him, and Crowley let out a quiet breath of relief. He covered it up with the wave of an expressive hand, leaning casually back into his chair once more. “Right. There you go, then. You like it, I like it. ‘S the perfect choice for a honeymoon,” he said, taking up his champagne glass for a sip. “Delicious food for you, excellent alcohol for me. Can’t go wrong with that kind of combination, angel.”

Aziraphale swallowed his bite of crepe and smiled warmly over at him. “They do go together quite well, I agree.”

“Yeah, they do,” he drawled, smiling into his glass as the angel’s hand reached across the table for his. Their fingers met, toying gently with each other as they ate and drank, and Crowley delighted in the way their matching rings gleamed in the sunlight. “Perfectly.”

* * *

“So, where would you like to visit next? We’ve already been to the Eiffel Tower, but I’m sure there are plenty of other attractions we can see before it gets too late.”

Crowley wasn’t too keen on seeing anything at the moment, unless that certain attraction was none other than his husband lying in bed with him. He had been teasing about the whole ‘coming to Paris for sex’ thing, but seeing as the angel’s fingers were still linked with his, and his thumb had been stroking lazily at his palm for the past hour…

He did it again, and Crowley felt his whole corporation tingle with excitement. It was enough of a touch to feel wonderful, and it was lacking in such a way that it tempted him to launch himself over the table for more.

Suffice it to say that he had been put in the mood.

Crowley felt himself inch closer as Aziraphale indulged in another bite of his crepe (going on the fourth one now), closing his mouth around it with such ecstasy that Crowley nearly groaned. The tip of his tongue slipped out to lick at a dribble of chocolate sauce running down his lip, and that time Crowley did groan. Quietly, into his fist. Disguising it as a cough. If he hadn’t, he would have bridged the gap and licked those delectable lips clean himself, with his own eager tongue.

 _Fuck_ , this was slowly killing him.

With a silent apology to the champagne that was about to sacrifice itself for the greater good, he tipped his glass, spilling golden bubbles down the front of his jacket. Doing this at the wedding reception had worked better than he could have dreamed. In one fell swoop he had successfully extricated himself from their guests, coerced Aziraphale into helping him search for new clothes to wear, and then spent the rest of that evening with his replacement clothes lying on the floor, untouched - which, coincidentally, was the exact opposite of how he had fared that night.

His plan had worked brilliantly then, so there was no reason why it couldn’t work here, too. But if it didn’t, he was going to have to dump as much champagne on himself as was needed, until the angel was unable to decline his offer. Even if it meant turning his clothes see-through.

“Ah shit,” he griped, glancing up quickly to see if he had caught his attention. “Not again. Hate it when I do that.”

“Do what, dear?”

Aziraphale glanced up from his fork and gasped, reaching hurriedly for some napkins. “Crowley, your clothes!” he exclaimed, staring up at him with a look of sudden suspicion. “What’s come over you? I’ve never seen you spill anything before, let alone in this amount. You’re always so careful when alcohol is concerned. Unless…”

Crowley could feel his trademarked mischievous grin consuming his face, and he did nothing to hide it. “I just figured out our next destination,” he said, bringing his lips close enough to whisper. “I have clean clothes at the hotel. Mind accompanying me?”

The angel had stepped briskly around their table to dab at Crowley’s chest, trying to stop the flow of bubbling liquid before it left too noticeable of a mark behind; but as soon as those words left his mouth the dabbing motion slowly stalled out. Aziraphale frowned down at him, instantly recognizing this for what it was. “Again,” he stated, disappointed. “You’re doing this again? I knew I’d seen this somewhere before! Oh, you wily serpent!”

“Hey angel, you’re supposed to respond accordingly. Roleplay doesn’t work if you don’t make it work.”

“That’s because we aren’t roleplaying right now, Crowley! We’re in Paris on our honeymoon! Of all the places we could admire together, you’d rather admire the bedroom first?”

He shook his head, sending a wink towards a pouting Aziraphale. “Nah, a bedroom’s a bedroom. I wanna admire my husband some more,” he said, chuckling at the mixture of amusement and exasperation on his husband’s face. “C’mon, we’ve been in Paris for a day. There’s a week’s worth of exploring to do, we can go wherever you like after. I promise, demon’s honor.”

“Hmmph.” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, and it served to make him even more adorable in Crowley’s eyes. “If we do this, will you keep to your word? No more derailments after tonight - and no more purposely spilled champagne?”

His grin widened. “Not unless you want there to be. I can ‘accidentally’ spill a whole bottle of champagne on myself, if you like. Just gimme a sec.”

“No, no! This is fine!” he insisted, sighing at the demon’s amused laughter. “Aren’t you against wasting alcohol?”

“Hey, ‘s not wasting if you use your tongue!”

The hot blush that took over Aziraphale’s face at the mention of such an idea proved that he recalled their wedding night with vivid clarity. And the enthusiasm in his eyes, that had settled it for Crowley.

He was definitely going to spare a moment to buy a few cases of champagne while they were here. If there was to be no more derailments in Paris, then he would simply have to derail the shit out of Aziraphale once they got back home.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi on Tumblr!
> 
> You can find me at my main blog [@refraingirl](https://refraingirl.tumblr.com/) or at my writing blog [@refraingirl-the-writer](https://refraingirl-the-writer.tumblr.com/)!


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